When examining the section of Corinne where Corinne and Lord Nelvil debate the merits of their chosen religions, it is easy to reduce it to a simple debate between Protestant austerity and strictness versus the plenitude of Catholicism and Catholic ritual. However, de Stael seems to be doing much more than that; she seems to be setting the reader up to understand the much broader religious and political concerns of the Italians, as a predictive commentary on the state of the nation, in relation to Romantic ideals. Corinne discusses how the Catholics enjoy the plenitude of nothingness, while Lord Nelvil relishes in the fact that “religious life is a battle, not a hymn” (180). To me, this seemed to be an extended commentary on the Enlightenment ideals of reason versus the Romantic ideas of enthusiasm and imagination. Nelvil speaks the words of reason, as when he says “both reason in religion and authority in duty are a necessary brake to [man’s] arrogant misdemeanours” (180) while Corinne shows how much she is affected by the divine, “even if the religious splendour is excessive, [she] love[s] this lavishness of earthly riches for the sake of another life” (179). While Nelvil wants reason and duty in his religion, Corinne expects religious grandeur and excess, even if it is useless in this life. However, the difficulty with this close reading is that I’ve now reduced three pages of text and conversation between the two characters into a simple binary – reason versus enthusiasm/splendour. But shouldn’t we think about the possibility, as Corinne does, that it doesn’t have to be simply one or the other, but both together in conversation.
In thinking about my own reading habits, I don’t know if it is possible to read without being reductive. When I read, and I’m sure most people who enjoy reading, especially those within English studies, I want to make meaning out of what is on the page. In order to do that, I must make some sort of connection between what I’m reading and what I already know (or assume I know). This idea links to adaptation theory, where if we are a knowing audience (who knows the original source text) we gain a different meaning (not always better or deeper) than an unknowing audience that only knows the adaptation. Of course, it is more than just that; we all bring into the reading process our own experiences, cultures, upbringings, prejudices, assumptions, etc., which all cloud the way we make meaning with the text. Whether it’s through a theoretical lens or just our own need to make the text mean something, we are always reducing the text into something that is understandable to us.
On the other hand, I think that it is important to stress, especially with students, that there is not just one meaning to a text – there is a multitude of meanings that one can take. All these meanings are influenced by who we are and what we want to take out of a text. While I don’t know how we get away from reductionist thinking, I think that keeping an open mind to the multiplicity of others’ ideas is an important concept to maintain. This becomes increasingly difficult later in the text, when Lord Nelvil tells Corinne that he’s leaving for England and they proceed to enact the melodramatic “I must go…No, don’t go…No, I don’t want to go, but I must go” scene. However, maybe this scene is merely a way to provide a contrast to the angelic Lucile who we meet a few pages later?
When examining the section of Corinne where Corinne and Lord Nelvil debate the merits of their chosen religions, it is easy to reduce it to a simple debate between Protestant austerity and strictness versus the plenitude of Catholicism and Catholic ritual. However, de Stael seems to be doing much more than that; she seems to be setting the reader up to understand the much broader religious and political concerns of the Italians, as a predictive commentary on the state of the nation, in relation to Romantic ideals. Corinne discusses how the Catholics enjoy the plenitude of nothingness, while Lord Nelvil relishes in the fact that “religious life is a battle, not a hymn” (180). To me, this seemed to be an extended commentary on the Enlightenment ideals of reason versus the Romantic ideas of enthusiasm and imagination. Nelvil speaks the words of reason, as when he says “both reason in religion and authority in duty are a necessary brake to [man’s] arrogant misdemeanours” (180) while Corinne shows how much she is affected by the divine, “even if the religious splendour is excessive, [she] love[s] this lavishness of earthly riches for the sake of another life” (179). While Nelvil wants reason and duty in his religion, Corinne expects religious grandeur and excess, even if it is useless in this life. However, the difficulty with this close reading is that I’ve now reduced three pages of text and conversation between the two characters into a simple binary – reason versus enthusiasm/splendour. But shouldn’t we think about the possibility, as Corinne does, that it doesn’t have to be simply one or the other, but both together in conversation.
In thinking about my own reading habits, I don’t know if it is possible to read without being reductive. When I read, and I’m sure most people who enjoy reading, especially those within English studies, I want to make meaning out of what is on the page. In order to do that, I must make some sort of connection between what I’m reading and what I already know (or assume I know). This idea links to adaptation theory, where if we are a knowing audience (who knows the original source text) we gain a different meaning (not always better or deeper) than an unknowing audience that only knows the adaptation. Of course, it is more than just that; we all bring into the reading process our own experiences, cultures, upbringings, prejudices, assumptions, etc., which all cloud the way we make meaning with the text. Whether it’s through a theoretical lens or just our own need to make the text mean something, we are always reducing the text into something that is understandable to us.
On the other hand, I think that it is important to stress, especially with students, that there is not just one meaning to a text – there is a multitude of meanings that one can take. All these meanings are influenced by who we are and what we want to take out of a text. While I don’t know how we get away from reductionist thinking, I think that keeping an open mind to the multiplicity of others’ ideas is an important concept to maintain. This becomes increasingly difficult later in the text, when Lord Nelvil tells Corinne that he’s leaving for England and they proceed to enact the melodramatic “I must go…No, don’t go…No, I don’t want to go, but I must go” scene. However, maybe this scene is merely a way to provide a contrast to the angelic Lucile who we meet a few pages later?